


Confounding Variables

by DeadpanPrincess, TinCanTelephone



Series: The Experiment [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fertility Issues, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Marriage, humorous awkward phone calls, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 15:11:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadpanPrincess/pseuds/DeadpanPrincess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinCanTelephone/pseuds/TinCanTelephone
Summary: Jyn and Cassian's journey to parenthood has ups and downs.These include but are not limited to- tampon theft, unpredictable sex, and cravings for (gasp!) avocados





	Confounding Variables

**Author's Note:**

> Scenes and outtakes from [The Experiment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429136) written by me and the lovely and talented @deadpanprincess!! 
> 
>  
> 
> **_Parts 1 through 4 are by yours truly, and parts 5 and 6 are by Deadpan :)_ **

**1\. It’s All About Timing**

“No, Mamá, I don’t think we can make it to Antonio’s birthday.”

“Are you sure? Is it because of–”

“No, it’s not because of– that.” Cassian shifts the phone to his other ear and glances over his shoulder into the living room, but Jyn doesn’t seem to be listening. He lowers his voice anyway. “It’s just a long drive for only one day, then I have work on Monday and Jyn has a project due soon–”

“You can’t take Monday off? I keep saying, you both work too hard.”

“We like our jobs.”

“And I understand that but when’s the last time you went on vacation?”

“I don’t know.” 

“See what I mean? Are you okay, _mijo_? You sound distracted.”

“I’m fine.” Cassian looks behind him again. Jyn’s still in the living room, hunched over her computer, but he’s still kind of nervous. Things have been a bit… unpredictable lately. In six months, nothing’s come of their “experiment” and things are starting to get kind of tense. 

It’s not that they’ve been distant– in fact it’s the opposite. He’s pretty sure they haven’t had sex this frequently since their honeymoon. But Jyn has some sort of new app on her phone and she’s been “in the mood” at increasingly strange hours. Last month, he’d just put his shoes on to go to work when she dragged him back to the couch. Miraculously, it only made him 10 minutes late, although Kes pointed out his shirt was buttoned wrong and spent the entire day laughing about it. 

“Is Jyn okay?” his mother says. 

“She’s fine,” Cassian says under his breath. He’s tempted to switch to Spanish, but that would just make Jyn suspicious. 

“Have you two seen a doctor yet? Your father mentioned this wonderful practice–”

“No! I mean– no.” He runs a hand through his hair and tries to moderate his tone. “That’s not– we’re not looking for that kind of thing.”

“Really? Hasn’t it been–”

“ _Yeah._ ” Cassian knows how long it’s been. He wishes he didn’t, but he does. “But we’re not– that’s not what this is.” He leans on the counter and puts a hand over his eyes, as if that’ll help with the embarrassment. He loves his parents, and he loves being open with them. But he’s really starting to wonder if he’s crossed the line into _too_ open with this latest endeavor. 

His mother’s silent for a minute, then she snorts. “I think you and I have different definitions of what _this_ is.” 

“Maybe so.” He relaxes a bit. Judgmental undertones aside, this sounds like the end of this discussion and he tries to change the subject. “Is Tío Ricardo coming to the the party? Because he’s only forty minutes away and he made excuses about Teresa’s first communion.”

“No, no, he promised he’d come this time– your father threatened to smack him if he said he was _busy_ again. The man’s a retired antique collector! How busy could he be…” 

Cassian leans on his elbows and settles into listening to his mother rant about her ne’er-do-well brother-in-law. 

She’s just getting to the part where Ricardo laid off his assistant because she was selling too many antiques online when Cassian feels warm hands snake around his waist and Jyn’s lips press into the back of his neck. 

At first it’s nice and he leans into it a bit, then her mouth opens and she starts _sucking_ and he almost drops his phone.

His mother must hear something because pauses mid-story and says, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just–” He swallows and tries desperately to keep his voice even as Jyn spins him around so she has better access to his throat and begins working at the buttons on his shirt. Huh, maybe that’ll actually come off this time. How romantic. 

“Cassian?”

“Sorry, Mamá.” Christ, this is so weird– talking to his mother while Jyn does _that_ to his collarbone. “I, uh–” 

Jyn gives up on the shirt and starts fiddling with his belt and tugging him away from the counter. 

Cassian wonders if they’ll make it to the bed this time. That might be nice for a change. 

“If you need to go, just say so,” his mother says. 

Cassian can hear her rolling her eyes, but he’s grateful for the out. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m so sorry– I have to go.”

“Okay, _mijo_. I love you. Have fun.”

“Love you, t– wait, have _what?_ ” 

But she’s already hung up.

 

* * *

  

**2\. Involuntary Donations**

Some days, Jyn wishes she could tell the universe just what she thinks of it. And maybe kick it around a bit. Because it’s a cruel twist of fate that directly from their appointment with the _fertility specialist_ , they have to go to Han and Leia’s gender reveal party. 

She hated them when she heard about the baby. So suddenly and violently that it shocked her into admitting what she wanted all along, back when she and Cassian began this experiment. It scares her, how much she wants it– which is why she initially hoped it would just… happen. She wanted so badly to be okay if it didn’t.

Her stomach clenches as Cassian pulls into the Solos’ driveway so they can celebrate their friends’ “happy accident.” Neither of them move after he parks, contemplating the front walk.

Cassian flexes his fingers on the wheel. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” 

He hasn’t taken the key out of the ignition, and Jyn briefly considers all the things she could say to make him turn the car around and drive away. It wouldn’t take much. 

Then she pushes them down and unbuckles her seatbelt anyway. “I’m fine. It’s just a stupid party.”  If they go home, they’ll just sit in silence with too much to think about. The distraction will be better than nothing.

 

Ninety minutes in, Jyn’s seriously reconsidering her logic. Leia’s parents went all out and there seem to be babies _everywhere_ – on the cupcakes, the napkins, even the tablecloth is covered in blue and pink onesies. Jyn devotes most of her energy to keeping her face neutral and does her best to stay on the topic of work when people ask her how she is. She’s lucky they haven’t told anyone about this except for Bodhi, who had to drive her to a doctor’s appointment last month. 

The concerned looks Bodhi keeps directing her way are about all she can take, and she’s so distracted she almost falls out of her seat when Leia, Han, and Breha pop the purple balloons tied all around the trellis.

Shiny blue confetti goes everywhere. Everyone in attendance cheers and coos and there’s yet _another_ round of congratulations to Leia and her extremely fertile uterus. 

“Oh my god, that’s amazing!”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

The woman next to Jyn leans over and says, “That’s what I thought, just look how she’s carrying–  don’t you think it looks like a boy?”

“I don’t know.” Jyn hides her scowl in a sip of punch and mutters something about having to pee. Cassian’s distracted, caught in a conversation with Han and Luke, but she notices Bodhi watch her storm inside. She tries to tell him not to follow with a tiny shake of her head. 

Because there is some mercy left in the world, she makes it to Leia’s immaculate, ocean-themed downstairs bathroom before she starts crying. She tries to keep it quiet, but it’s hard because it isn’t. Fucking. Fair. They _want_ this. They’ve been _trying_. For a _year_. Then it happens to Leia _by accident?_ It makes her so angry, then jealous, then angry all over again because she’s jealous. 

It’s really ugly crying, too. Her nose runs all over her upper lip and tears spill hot and fast down her face. She tries to breathe through the loud sobs but it makes her chest hurt and she’s not sure how long she can keep it up and oh, God she’s going to hyperventilate and pass out in Leia’s perfect fucking bathroom at her perfect fucking baby party becuase _she_ got fucking pregnant while Jyn– all Jyn gets is blood tests and urine samples and her period. Every single month. 

Someone knocks on the door and she jumps, takes several shaky breaths. “Occupied!” Her voice still wavers. 

“Jyn?”

Shit, it’s Bodhi. “Go away.”

“Jyn, open the door.”

“No.”

“I’m coming in.”

“My pants are down.” 

“I’ll risk it.” 

And because she forgot to lock the fucking door, Bodhi steps right in and sees her sitting on the closed toilet seat with her wet, red face and swollen eyes. 

“Jyn…” The bathroom is too small for him to really follow her inside, so he just leans on the doorframe and looks sad. It’s almost worse. 

“What.” She glares at her lap. 

“I… I’m so sorry. This must be really hard.”

“It’s not hard,” she says reflexively. 

Bodhi raises an eyebrow.

She wilts a little. “It just sucks.”

“Yeah,” he says, in that soft, understanding way that makes everything hurt a little bit less. “It does suck.”

She takes another deep breath, much steadier than before, and wipes her eyes. 

“Any updates?” he says gently. 

“Apparently we’re both fertile,” she says into her lap.

“That’s great!”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s _frustrating_. If we’re both fine, then how hasn’t it happened yet?”

“I don’t know. Biology?”

“Fuck biology,” she mutters. She dries her face and her eyes drift to the cabinet under the sink. 

“What are you thinking?” Bodhi says.

She doesn’t answer, lips pressed together as she considers another way to direct her frustration.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.”

“Mmmm…”

“Jyn…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, then kneels down and opens the cabinet. _Bingo_. She grabs the mostly-full box of tampons and begins stuffing its contents into her pockets. 

“Oh, come on–”

“What? _She_ won’t need them. I do!” Jyn’s logic is bulletproof.

“Really?” Bodhi doesn’t seem to think so. “Jyn, please, this is– they won’t all fit in your p– okay, I stand corrected, but still I don’t think–” 

Victorious, she stands up and faces him. “Think of it like an involuntary donation.”

He holds up his hands and backs up, making room for her to leave the bathroom. “Forget I said anything.”

_Damn right._

 

* * *

  

**3\. Mamá Knows Best**

Cassian remembers the reason he’s a morning person when his mother still beats him to the kitchen half past 6 a.m. 

“Good morning,” she murmurs. 

The kitchen is mostly dark, but Cassian still squints in the dim light from the stove. Fuck, he’d hoped the headache would be gone by now. 

“I found more ibuprofen.” His mother nods towards the counter and Cassian breathes a sigh of relief. God knows where she found it– the stomach flu has been circulating through his entire extended family for two days. He thought for sure every painkiller and fever reducer in the house would be long gone. 

“Thank you.” He swallows two pills dry and starts the coffee machine.

She frowns. “You should have water instead. You’ll lose fluids drinking that.”

He shakes his head. “I think Jyn and I are going home today. I have to drive.”

“So soon?” She sounds sad– it’s only December 28th– but not surprised. 

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stares at the dark water dripping into the pot, his tired brain easily hypnotized. “I’m okay to drive, and Jyn’s still not feeling well. I just think she’d be more comfortable at home.”

“I understand.” She sips her herbal tea. “Was she sick again last night?”

“Yeah.” He fiddles with his shirt. “She still can’t really keep anything down. I’m not sure… it didn’t last this long for me.”

“Poor dear.” 

“And… it’s been a long year,” he says. “I think we’re both just tired.”

His mother’s face barely changes as she nods and drinks her tea, but he recognizes her thoughtful pose. “Are you still…?”

“No,” he says. “I mean, not exactly. We’re not really thinking of it. We’re trying to relax. ”

“I see.”

He tries to shrug. “And… you know. We’ll be okay if nothing ever happens.”

“Oh, Cassian.” She shakes her head. “Always so cynical.”

He stiffens. “I’m just being realistic.”

“That’s what your father says.” She finishes her tea and stands. “Silly man.” She adjusts her robe and pads across the linoleum. 

He leans down so she doesn’t have to stretch to kiss his cheek. She pushes hair out of his eyes like he’s a child again and he swallows, suddenly reconsiders leaving. 

But she says, “Go home, _mijo_ ,” and squeezes his hand. “And get some rest. I don’t think you’ll have to wait much longer.”

“Goodbye, Mamá.” He tries to smile, but he’s too tired to hold onto it and returns to staring at the coffee machine as she goes back upstairs. He tries to put her words out of his mind. 

_Relax._ He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. _Just relax._

 

* * *

  

**4.** **The Blame Game**

Five months in, Jyn decides she’s done being pregnant.

“If one more person on the subway tries to touch my stomach, I’m going to break their hand.” She kicks the door closed behind her probably harder than necessary. 

Cassian winces but doesn’t say anything. Recently, it’s hard to tell whether it’s best to offer sympathy or just shut up until she’s finished. 

“I’m still a _person_ you know. And I’d like my personal space. How would _you_ feel if people just started randomly touching your stomach?” 

She seems to be waiting for a response, so he risks it. “That sucks.”

“I know! Also, people are starting to _give up their seats for me!_ I’m not even that big yet! I can still stand for four subway stops, thank you very much.” She slumps onto the sofa and crosses her arms. “The novelty’s worn off, Cass. I’m tired of playing host. Why can’t she be done in there already?”

Cassian knows better than to respond to that. So he just nods, sits carefully next to her with his laptop, and tries to get some work done.

“I can’t believe I let you you talk me into this.”

Okay, now _that_ he can’t ignore. “Excuse me?”

“I’m pretty sure this was all your idea, anyway.”

“…I seem to remember it being more of a collective decision.”

“Nope. All your idea. I never should’ve listened to you.”

“Jyn we both–”

“ _We_ nothing, Cassian. Are _you_ growing a tiny alien inside of you?”

“Well, I–”

“Are _you_ slowly becoming the size of a beach ball?”

“Jyn, you’re still–” He puts his laptop aside and reaches his arm around her.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” Cassian withdraws and leans back. Christ, it’s like walking on ice these days. He picks up his laptop again and tries to refocus on the article he was supposed to turn in yesterday. Jyn’s silent for nearly ten minutes, and just when he feels like he’s gaining some momentum…

“Nevermind, you can touch me.”

He tries to block her out and type faster. _Just a minute_. 

“Cassian.”

_One sec…_

“Cassian.”

_Hold on!_

“Cassian, I said you can touch me now!”

“Yes, just… let me finish…”

“I said _now_!”

Before he fully realizes what’s happening, his laptop’s back on the coffee table and he’s on his back on the sofa wondering how on earth she can still move that _fast_. Then he feels her tongue on his neck and his hands grip her thighs on instinct and he finds he doesn’t really care.

 

* * *

  

**5\. Starving**

“Off, off, off!” 

Jyn gets quick fingers under his shirt and rucks the fabric under his armpits. Cassian tries to help her, twisting one way then the other to shimmy the shirt off his arms. But he only left one damn button undone today and the fucking thing won’t clear his chin. 

She gives up on trying to get him out of his clothes. Jyn kisses down his chest and over his collarbone, lavishing attention to his poor, ignored nipples. He’s drowning in the scratch of her tongue, the trail of her nails down his bare back. Fuck the shirt. He can carry on like this. 

Tongue and teeth, slick and hot, Jyn meanders downward. She casually trails her hand behind her mouth. Her fingers tangle in his small smattering of chest hair. The smell of sex and sweat follows them down into the couch (they never do seem to make it to bed). Better, considering that her weight is different. The baby adds heft and throws off her balance. She succumbs to gravity and uses it to her advantage, dragging Cassian down with her. 

His shirt is somewhere under his elbows when Jyn looks up from his abdomen, her lips just brushing his belt buckle. Oh fuck, why did he wear a belt? Too much time in undoing the small mechanism, in winding the leather out from the loops. He wants his pants gone already. Maybe she can just rip through them. 

Her eyes are dark under her lashes. Black swallows green. She is hungry for the first time in weeks. 

Cassian scrambles to undo his belt. His fingers brush against her pouting mouth. She is a tease, a horrible, horrible tease. And he would tell her so if only he could focus on more than one task at a time. Right now all that matters is undoing the buckle and unzipping his pants. They are forever efficient, gaining access where they need rather than wasting their time disrobing. 

Jyn’s nails find his newly exposed skin. Oh-so-lightly she drags them past his hip bones and down his bare thighs. His pants pool down by his ankles. Who cares. He can’t stand anyway.

Cassian reaches out, needing to touch her. When they devour each other like this, he forgets that he’s living in reality and not a dream (because she is his every fantasy). His hand molds against her cheek. She pauses, peeking up. He can still read the hunger in her expression, but it’s tempered by fondness. Jyn braces herself against his thighs and lowers herself onto the hardwood. Cassian quickly tries to throw a cushion under her knees, but ends up chucking the pillow at her face. Her reflexes are still sharp, though, and she catches it between her thighs. He gulps. 

Her smile is sharp, pointed. There’s already sweat dotting his brow. He can feel his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Every strand of hair, every pore, everything he has is attuned to her. How she perches herself on the pillow like a queen and his lap is a feast laid before her under the silver platter of his briefs. The firm roundness of her belly rests against his calves, warm under her thin cotton shirt. 

Jyn licks her lips. He tracks the movement of her tongue. She lowers her damnable mouth, kisses the joint where his thigh meets hip. Her nose edges that crevice. A soft touch that tightens his balls. _Dios_ , he’s more than half-hard. Cassian’s back to his teenage self, completely overwhelmed by her touch. 

His hand threads gently into her undone bun. Not exerting any pressure, just resting and angled down so that his forefinger can almost brush the fluttering pulse at her throat. Could she want this as much as he does? After weeks of nausea and sickness, hormones and oversensitivity, maybe her libido is finally returning. 

He wants to taste her. As much as he wants her hands on him, her mouth warm and wanting, he wants to bury himself like that pillow between her thighs. Cassian wants to steam out the arch from her spine, melt away the stress at her temples. 

“Let me--” he tries, but Jyn holds him firmly in place. Her nails dig into his hips. Fuck. 

“Jyn, I want to--”

“I know what you want. But this is what I want. And you want to make me happy, right?”

Cassian can only nod. Words in any language evade him. 

“Good. Then go get me a slice of cake because I’m _starving._ ”

 

* * *

 

**6\. A Room Full of Avocados**

She can smell it. Creeping out from under the bathroom door, wafting all the way from the kitchen, snaking its way to where Jyn sits on top of the closed toilet bowl. The unbearable stench of chilaquiles once again stalks her throughout their one bedroom apartment. 

Is it not enough that she agreed to carry his child? That she has to suffer strangers thinking her stomach public property? That she has to give up all her preferred methods of exercise for yoga to protect the health of _his_ demon spawn? 

No. Of course not. Jyn has to suffer through another comfort meal of nachos drenched in cheese and spices. And _cilantro._ Apparently there was a time, before this fetus ballooned inside of her, where she would guzzle down tortilla chips and douse every plate in those green devil herbs. Now she can’t get the taste of soap off her tongue. 

It’s just–

She’s supposed to be grateful. Jyn has an incredible partner, whom she loves (most of the time). When they actually leave the apartment people always coo over how attentive Cassian is, how giving, how _thoughtful._ And he is. He’s there every moment, making sure to speak in that soft, condescending tone. Like she’s making him walk on eggshells, for fuck’s sake. 

He’s not the one with swollen ankles and cheeks. Cassian doesn’t have to watch his body revolt against him every time he tries to do downward dog. He might have to run out of the apartment at four in the morning because they ran out of kimchi at midnight, but it’s a small price to pay for not having to host their beloved parasite. 

And now he’s making chilaquiles. For the fourth day in a row. Because apparently the pickles and avocados she’s sucking down morning, noon, and night “don’t have enough nutritional value.” Jyn can’t control pregnancy cravings. The fetus gestating in her womb will have what she wants whenever she wants. 

Jyn finally pushes herself off the toilet and waddles her way into the kitchen. Only one month left before their daughter finally drops into the world.

Cassian looks up from his phone and leans against the oven door, plaid sleeves rolled past his elbows and collar unbuttoned to reveal no undershirt. Damn him, looking better than anything he could have cooked. 

“Hey, food’s almost ready. Everything good?”

“Not really.”

“What’s wrong?” He drops his phone on the stove and moves to her immediately. His hands reach for her belly. Jyn swats him away. Cassian is so used to her fluctuating moods now that he doesn’t even flinch. 

“What is it?”

“I can’t stand anymore of that chilaquiles bullshit, Cassian.” 

The fold between his eyebrows wrinkles. 

“But--”

“No buts. I want avocados.”

“Jyn, you know how I feel about those.”

“It’s them or me.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She crosses her arms and braces her added weight between her legs. The patented _fight me_ stance that Jyn Erso-Andor has perfected over the years, and has not had the opportunity to use since she got pregnant. 

“We’re going to one of the big box stores that we both hate, and we’re going to buy enough avocados to drown this baby in. I want to lose her inside a room full of avocados.” 

Cassian snorts--but quickly chokes off the noise when her heavy scowl doesn’t lighten. 

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” he says.

“That’s fine,” Jyn says archly. “You wouldn’t prepare them right, anyway.” 

She leaves Cassian spluttering in the kitchen as she lumbers her way to the hallway and the car keys. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading/comments/kudos!
> 
> I am on tumblr at [cats-and-metersticks](https://cats-and-metersticks.tumblr.com/) and love to talk about this 'verse so if you love it come say hi!


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